Happy Birthday, Have a Zombie!
by shiiki
Summary: Nico receives an unexpected and unusual birthday present. [Christmas giftfic for Hello]


**Summary** : Nico receives an unexpected and unusual birthday present. For **Hello** , who requested _Hades gifting Nico Jules-Albert the zombie chauffeur?_

 **A/N** : Dear **Hello** , I was really happy to get your request and thank you for popping by to say hi and send it in! My first attempt at writing your prompt actually descended into 2,000 words of Nico angst without actually getting round to Jules-Albert, so I had to scrap it and start again, but who knows … that may mean the fic that didn't get written may take a different direction and end up as a new one-shot next year! Anyway, hope you like this!

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 **Happy Birthday, Have a Zombie!**

 _A Christmas giftfic for_ _ **Hello**_

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Nico wasn't really expecting anything for his thirteenth birthday. To begin with, the only people who knew when his birthday _was_ were dead. Or reborn, which was even worse. At least if Bianca had just stayed in Elysium, he might have found her eventually (assuming he managed to make it there in his afterlife).

And then there was the fact that he never really stayed in one place long enough to make friends. These days he split his time in the mortal world between two demigod camps—a dangerous double game that was also fairly time-consuming. Sure, he could shadow-travel from place to place, but there was a limit to how often and how far he could make a jump without needing to recharge his batteries.

This particular birthday, he was taking a circuitous route from Long Island to Berkeley via Louisiana (might as well stay warm at this time of the year, and besides, he could pick up something nice for Hazel in New Orleans) while keeping his eyes open for Percy Jackson. The son of Poseidon still hadn't showed up anywhere, not even at Camp Jupiter, so Nico had told Annabeth he'd look in the south. He still hadn't told her or anyone at either camp about his double life (well, one of them, anyway).

He had just curled up in the shade of a Louisiana cypress to take a nap. It had been a long jump from the last city—was it Roanoke? They were all starting to be a blur—and he needed some serious rest before he took his next hop. Maybe he'd aim for Dallas this time, or Albuquerque if he was feeling ambitious.

He was _not_ expecting the dark, brooding figure waiting for him in his dream.

The Supreme Lord of All Things Down Under might be his father, but that didn't stop Nico from shivering in his black boots when he found himself staring straight into Hades's glowering face.

'Father?' His heart had jumped into the region of his Adam's apple, making his voice come out in a childish squeak.

The Lord of the Underworld never exactly chuckled, but if he did, Nico suspected he would be now. The flames in his eyes were almost amused.

Nico scowled and forced himself to take several deep breaths, pushing his heart and voice back down to their proper octaves. 'What are you doing here? Er, wherever here is.' His dream landscape was a mass of black fog.

Hades surveyed Nico closely. The intensity of the purplish flames in his eyes made Nico squirm. 'The realm of dreams belongs to darkness and shadows. Both of which are your birthright.'

'So you're saying I can shadow-travel in dreams as well? Great. I'm sure that's going to help me so much.'

Hades rubbed at an ornate ring on his finger. 'I can never tell if you're being sarcastic.' He sighed. 'Never mind. I sought you today because—well, it is your birthday, is it not?'

Nico's eyebrows shot up so quickly, he felt like he'd pulled a facial muscle. He wasn't even aware that his father _knew_ his birth date. It wasn't like he'd ever said anything before.

'What about the communications ban?' he said cautiously. After Zeus had put all the gods on lockdown a month ago, he'd thought it'd be a while before any of them came to bother—er, find—him. Let alone his dad, who'd never exactly been Father of the Year material.

Though he supposed there was a time when he and Bianca had been small and Hades had been more solicitous towards their mom. Not that he remembered it very well. Even if he hadn't been given the Lethe treatment, it had been well over seventy years ago now.

'My brother has never been very good at tracking shadows. As for wishing you a happy birthday …' Hades twisted his ring. 'I don't know much about being a good father,' he admitted. 'But the Jackson kid got me thinking last summer. Once a year, maybe I can try.'

'Er, thanks, I guess.' Nico fiddled with his own skull ring, then stopped once he realised he was mirroring his father's nervous habit. He wasn't sure what to make of this similarity between them.

'I notice you seem to be … troubled.'

'Troubled.' Nico couldn't stop the snort that escaped his lips. 'I'm alone, seventy years out of my time, shuttling between two enemy camps that take days of travel to get to, while the only place I really belong is the land of the dead. No, Father, why would I be troubled?'

Hades's eyebrows furrowed as he considered Nico's words. 'Would it help if you could be more like your friends?'

The shadows around them swirled into smoky memories. Nico saw himself sitting up front in Apollo's school bus, next to Percy. Himself in the back seat of Percy's mom's Mazda, while Percy craned his head back to address him.

Nico swiped his hand through the smoke. He didn't want to think about Percy now.

'I don't _have_ friends.' It wasn't a lie. He didn't exactly think of Percy as his friend after all.

But he didn't dare look at his father.

'More like a modern teenager, I mean.' Hades pursed his lips. Then he clapped his hands together. Nico wasn't sure how a shadowy dreamland could rumble, but rumble it did. The smoke parted at the level of their ankles. A helmet-clad head appeared out of it first, followed by a set of bony shoulders, a rib cage, and the rest of a skeleton, held together by thin bands of rotting flesh. A grimy motorcar race suit hung off his frame. He had the same glowing eyes of all the undead.

'You called, my Lord?' The zombie dude had a thick European accent. French, maybe.

Hades beamed. This wasn't exactly comforting, since Nico had seen him wear the same satisfied, _eureka!_ expression when he thought up suitable punishments for the dead.

'Son, this is Jules-Albert.'

'Er …'

'He will be your chauffeur. He can drive you around, just like a regular mortal parent. Take you to the, um—where do kids hang out these days? The dance hall? Oh, no—the mall, that's it. He can drive you to the mall.'

Nico couldn't answer. Surely any time now, Hades was going to turn around and go, ' _Ha, gotcha!_ '

'As you command, Lord Hades,' Jules-Albert said.

Hades clapped his hands again. 'Wonderful. There you go, son. You can go to the mall, hang out, make friends. Be a proper twenty-first century kid.'

He looked so pleased, Nico wasn't sure how to break it to him that normal kids didn't have rotting corpses waiting to pick them up, no matter what century it was. He stared, flabbergasted, at the zombie driver.

 _His_ zombie driver.

Because he didn't have anyone to drive him around.

He had a feeling his dad had looked at his memories and completely missed the point.

'Happy birthday, Nico. Now, go wake up and enjoy your present!'

His dream dissolved. Nico opened his eyes in the shade of the cypress tree. Jules-Albert was still there, peering at the colonial architecture of the city's French Quarter with interest.

'France has changed indeed,' he murmured.

'We're not in France,' Nico said. 'This is New Orleans.'

'Orleans is in France.'

' _New_ Orleans. In America.' Nico rubbed his forehead. 'Um, not to be rude, but are you going to be, like, shadowing me from now on?' He winced at the unintended pun, but Jules-Albert didn't seem to notice. Whether it was because he was dead, or French, Nico didn't know.

'I can return to the Underworld until you have need of me, young master.' It was hard to tell with the French accent, but Nico thought Jules-Albert sounded a touch disappointed. His fingers flexed as though they were itching to close around a steering wheel.

'Do you—did you drive a lot? Back when you were alive?'

Jules-Albert's eyes gleamed. 'Did I drive? Sacré bleu, it was my life!' He lifted his chin proudly. 'Me, I was the winner of the motorcar race of Paris-Rouen in 1895!'

'Wow. That's, um, cool?'

Jules-Albert's face fell. 'But I didn't get the prize. The judges, they decided to disqualify all steam engines. Alas, mine used a stoker.' Jules-Albert straightened his racecar uniform and puffed out his chest—well, his rib cage. 'If I could only drive again now, I'd show them who's number one!'

Nico didn't really _need_ a driver at the moment, but maybe he could do with a ride. It would be less tiring than another shadow jump. Except Hades had forgotten something. He might have summoned a chauffeur, but he'd neglected the complementary car.

Then Nico saw it, parked several yards away on the nearest sidewalk: a grey Cadillac with the weirdest paint job ever. It was smoky and translucent, as though the car had been crafted from shadow. On the hood was a large purple bow, like a totally embarrassing _HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIDDO!_

Nico wasn't sure how the car would hold up cross-country. But maybe they could take it for a short test drive first.

He _had_ meant to get Hazel something from the city.

'All right, Jules-Albert,' he said. 'You think you could drive me to the mall?'

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 **A/N** : Fun facts! Did you know Jules-Albert actually exists? Neither did I! His full name is Jules Félix Philippe Albert de Dion de Wandonne and RR must have pulled him out of the history books … he did indeed win the 1895 Paris-Rouen and get disqualified for using a steam car. And yes, teens did hang out at dance halls in the 1940s. The stuff you learn writing fic … who says fanfic isn't educational?

I did manage to come up with a ficlet for your second request about Magnus, Jack, and Bragi with the Greek-Roman crossovers, so that will be coming along next!


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